Sneezy with a Chance of Murder
by PicnicFanficnicAardvark
Summary: Shawn Spencer stumbles in to the Santa Barbara Police Department with a high fever, convinced he's just witnessed a brutal murder, but when there's no sign of a body, or a struggle, everybody believes he's delirious and has hallucinated the whole thing. When Shawn gets so much worse, is it his obsession with proving them wrong that's to blame...Or something much more sinister?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or any of it's characters.**

* * *

Prologue

1986

**Detective Henry Spencer awoke to the terrified scream of his 9 year old son, "Shawn!" Reaching for his firearm out of habit, and flinging the cover over the left side of the bed (where his wife Madeleine should have been sleeping), he hurried out of his room and towards his sons.**

**When he reached his sons bedroom, he realised that the handgun might be a bit much, but he kept his finger poised on the trigger regardless. When he opened the door and switched on the light, he found his son sitting in a fetal position on his bed, with his cover wrapped around him, shaking, crying and coughing.**

**"Shawn?" Henry asked softly, taking his finger off the trigger, and putting it down out of Shawn's reach, as it was obvious he'd just had a nightmare. Sitting next to the frightened little boy, he noticed how flushed and sweaty his son looked, and lifted him on to his knee, "What happened?"**

**"Mr Cookson jumped out of my toy-box and was strangling me," He sobbed, burying his head into his fathers chest; Henry couldn't help but notice how warm his son felt, "and now my throat and head really hurts."**

**Henry felt Shawn's head, "You're burning up," He sighed, "wait here a second." He left the room, returning promptly with a thermometer and putting it in to his sons mouth. After a few minutes he took it out and looked at it, "103.4...looks like you caught Gus' Flu kiddo." **

* * *

Present 

A low groan escaped Shawn Spencer's lips, his body ached something rotten, and he felt hot...so hot, like he was stuck inside a blazing furnace. All he wanted was to drop back in to the fitful slumber he'd been rudely dragged from; but it was no use, the disturbance was still...disturbing him, and now he was stuck somewhere between asleep and awake.

Cracking open one watery eye, Shawn saw a flash of lightning bounce off the wall, that did nothing to ease his banging head, which at that moment felt as though it was occupied by a very loud and out-of-tune brass band, _surely they could have picked a better place to rehearse_. He quickly closed his eye, giggling feverishly at the coloured dots that had formed because of his sudden swap from light to dark. Not only could he hear/feel the brass band, now he could also see it too; little colourful people, playing their tiny instruments...they were so adorable, he just wanted to throw miniature coins at them to show how much he enjoyed...

Some sort of loud sound interrupted his entertainment; sitting up sluggishly and grimacing as every joint and muscle in his body protested, the fake psychic allowed his burning eyes to rest groggily on the 'Psych' window. Outside it was dark, too dark in fact (someone really needed to fix that street light), droplets of rain ran fiercely down the glass...Santa Barbara was obviously in the middle of a storm.

Just as he started to close his tired eyes another flash of lightning lit up the room, a females face pressed up harshly against the window, her eyes wide with fear. 'Help me', she mouthed. Shawn shut his eyes tight, as an intense pain tore through them, he really did feel horrible. One minute he was feeling hot and sweaty, the next he was shivering from the chills, he had the worst headache, his throat hurt, his..._Wait, a girls face?_ His eyes shot open. Nothing.

Had he just imagined it? Was the storm playing tricks on his already fevered mind? Shawn wanted to get up, but his unusually heavy body wouldn't let him. Instead he fell in to a coughing fit, his whole body recoiling from the painful hacking. More loud, annoying thunder came, and he could have sworn he heard a higher pitched sound in the midst of it.

Not even his curiosity was a match for the exhaustion he was feeling right now, and he found himself dropping back off to...Another flash of light, and a shining object caught his eye; blinking desperately in a bid to 'unblur' his vision, Shawn's eyes focused on the offending object. It was a knife. Murder...She was being murdered!

Shawn knew he had to get up, had to help her, but once again his body disobeyed. He was tired...So damn tired, and unbearably hot, he was sure his whole body was on fire. His eyes felt so heavy, and try as he might, he couldn't stop them from closing...

Another flash of lightning got his attention, and he prised his eyes open, although he instantly wished he hadn't. Shawn's body tensed as he looked through the window, straight in to cold, merciless eyes. He shivered involuntarily, despite the heat, because in that flash of light, the man, who Shawn could only describe has being, 'monstrous looking', pointed at Shawn with one hand, and slid the knife in front of his throat with the other.

He'd seen Shawn, and more importantly, he knew Shawn had seen him.

The whole place went dark again, and Shawn felt as though his heart was going to jump out and start tap-dancing on his chest. He sat motionlessly, staring out of the window, waiting for the next lightning strike to hit. When it did, the 'monstrous looking' killer was no where to be seen.

This time he needed to get up, he was determined to get up, he...would just rest his eyes briefly...

His eyes shot open..._Why's it suddenly so much lighter outside?_ He shook his head, that didn't matter, right now the most important thing was reporting the brutal murder he'd just witnessed to the Santa Barbara Police Department.

* * *

For once Shawn's dramatic entrance in to the Santa Barbara Police Department wasn't merely a bid to draw attention to himself. If it wasn't for the fact that almost everybody in the SBPD were so accustomed to Shawn Spencer falling and flailing around, they may have regarded his unsteady movements as concerning.

"What do you see?" Officer Buzz McNab kept his voice low, as though the details of the psychic vision Shawn was obviously having were highly classified.

"Dead People..."

McNab stared after the 'psychic' uneasily, as he made his way over to Detective's Carlton 'Lassie' Lassiter and Juliet 'Jules' O'Hara.

"Shawn!" Juliet stood up in surprise, taking in his more-so-than-usual-dishevelled-look, flushed face and shivering form, "What are...?"

"I tried to stop it..." He slurred feverishly, slumping down on to one of the chairs in front of Juliet's desk.

She looked at him in confusion, "Stop what?"

"She's dead."

"Spencer what the hell are you talking about?" Lassiter demanded, although his voice contained far less bite than usual; the younger man seemed genuinely distressed, "You're not making any sense."

Juliet walked round her desk and crouched down next to him, "Shawn, are you feeling alright?" She asked with concern, she'd never seen him in such a state before, he seemed totally out of it, and upon closer inspection, she realised he really didn't look too good. Putting a hand to his forehead she frowned and looked up at her partner, "He's burning up."

"We gotta get to Psych Office, he murdered her!"

"Oh great, so not only is he here spreading his germs around, he's also ranting at us deliriously." Lassiter backed up slightly, not wanted to catch whatever illness the 'psychic' had.

"Shawn, what's going on?" His best friend, Burton 'Gus' Guster panted as he rushed towards them, "The way you sounded on the phone, scared me half to death."

"What's going on out here?" Police Chief Karen Vick demanded as she exited her office.

"She was murdered, right outside our window Gus!"

"Who was murdered?" The Chief really wasn't in the mood for any of Shawn Spencer's eccentrics today.

"No one...He's delirious," Lassiter answered, screwing up his nose, "with some sort of contagious disease no doubt, that's probably spread it's way through the whole Police Department by now." He turned to his 'nemesis', "If my 100% attendance for this year gets ruined because of you Spencer, I swear I'll..."

"Detective Lassiter!" Chief Vick stopped him firmly, "Now will somebody help Mr Spencer home so we can get on with some actual Police business?"

All heads turned towards Gus, who was standing a fairly large distance away from his friend, with his hand covering his nose and mouth, "What?"

"OK, first of all, I'm completely un-delirious, and second of all, I'm not going anywhere until Jules and Lassie check out the murder scene."

"Fine." She agreed, afraid she might snap at any moment, "Lassiter, O'Hara, escort Mr Spencer to his office and look for any signs of a disturbance." She started to walk to her own office, "I'll be in my office if you need me," She turned back to face them once she got to her door, "and don't anybody dare need me!"

Lassiter hurried after her, "But Chief, you can't honestly believe that Spencer actually witnessed a murder..."

"Of course I don't," She seethed, "but he's refusing to leave otherwise, so unless you're suggesting we throw a sick man out on to the street, humouring him seems like the best option, wouldn't you agree Detective?"

"But..."

She gave him a scornful look.

"Yes Ma'am."

* * *

Gus and Lassiter made mad dashes for their vehicles, neither of them wanting to be the one to chaperone Shawn. Lassiter scowled when he saw Gus driving away in the Blueberry. _Great, I'm stuck with the infected_, He thought, all but flinging his partner in to the passenger side of his car, before getting in to the driving seat and rolling down the window as far as it would go, to ensure that any germs could escape, "Spencer, you get in the back...And don't touch anything."

Gus slowed down the Blueberry to let the others overtake him, because even though he was 99.9% sure Shawn had just been hallucinating, he still wasn't willing to take that chance; not when a crazed murderer could be lurking about.

The 'crime scene' was underwhelming to say the least; not only was it lacking a dead body, but it also exhibited no sign of a struggle whatsoever.

Juliet turned her attention to the 'psychic', when the physical part of the investigation turned out to be non-existent, "Do you _see_ anything?"

Shawn put his hand to his head, his eyes darting around everywhere, as he tried desperately to find something that would prove he was right. Unfortunately, the only thing it achieved was making his headache even worse, "No," He sighed, putting his hand down slowly, "I think maybe being sick is blocking my connection with the spiritual side."

"Well this wasted my time as much as expected." Lassiter complained, walking over to his car, "It's gonna take me weeks to get this thing disinfected."

Juliet shot Shawn a sympathetic look, "Take it easy OK?" She glanced at Gus expectantly.

"Don't worry, I'll stay with him until his fever goes down." He assured her.

Shawn watched in disbelief as she followed Lassiter to his car, "Wait, that's it?" He trudged after them.

Juliet turned round, "Shawn, there's nothing here, what else is there for us to do?"

"Look harder."

She sighed, "I tell you what, if you'll get some sleep, I promise I'll keep a look out for anyone reporting a missing person, OK?"

He nodded and smiled half-heartedly."Thanks Jules."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Shawn opened his eyes and groaned, his body ached all over and he still felt like crap. Sitting up gingerly from his lying position on the couch, and raising an eyebrow when a wet cloth fell from his forehead on to his lap, he wrapped the blanket that had been over him around his body tightly and looked over at his friend, who had something white covering his nose and mouth, "Dude, are you wearing a mask?...Seriously?"

Gus looked up from his laptop, "I've got meetings all week Shawn, I can't afford to get sick." Shawn looked like he was about to retort, but it turned in to a coughing fit instead, so Gus walked across the Psych office and passed him a glass of water.

"Thanks man." Shawn managed through coughs, as his shaky hand gripped the glass.

Gus frowned, his friend looked exhausted (not that it was surprising considering Shawn had only managed to grab about four hours sleep), and uncomfortable, the only consolation being that his high fever had gone down, "You should have gone home like I said."

"But I'm in the middle of an investigation Gus..."

"You're still on that?" Gus shook his head, "How are you gonna investigate anything, when it was such an effort for you to just sit up?"

"Oh come on Gus, of course I know I'm too sick to be investigating anything," He put the glass down on to the floor, "that's were you come in."

"No way Shawn, I'm not helping you investigate any imaginary murder."

"Still...With the hallucination thing...Really? Come on man, you know I haven't done that in like fifteen years."

"So? You used to do it every time you got sick Shawn."

"Not every time."

"Well...close enough." Gus started to pack away his sample case, "Anyway, even if I did believe you witnessed a murder...Which I don't, I couldn't help you right now anyway, I gotta go start my route."

"Fine, you won't help, I'll go do it myself!" He huffed, then held out his hand pathetically, "Help me up."

Gus glared at him, "You're not going anywhere Shawn."

"What are you gonna do, restrain me?" He snorted.

Gus didn't answer Shawn, instead he just put his hand in his pocket,

"Gus...What are you doing?"

Pulled out his Cellphone,

"Come on man, we can talk about this..."

Went to his speed dial,

"You...You wouldn't dare!"

And put his Cellphone to his ear.

"Gus!"

* * *

"Really Gus? You actually called him..." Shawn shot his friend an unimpressed glare, "You do realise he's the reason I feel like I could cough up a vital organ at any moment, right?"

"Hey, I told you not to drink from that glass Shawn." Henry reminded him, taking on a lecturing tone, "Maybe next time, you'll listen to what I say."

"Ok Dad, first of all, we both know that's probably never going to happen, and secondly, I drank from the side furthest away from you. What did your germs do, hop around the rim?" He looked his father up and down, "Why are you here anyway? I'm a grown man, I can look after myself."

"Gus tells me you've been hallucinating murders and what-not."

"I've not hallucinated anything, there's no 'murders' just a murder, and who says 'what-not'...Seriously, who?"

"So, despite having a fever sky-high, the lack of a body, and absolutely no evidence of an altercation of any kind, you're still adamant that what you saw was real?" Henry shook his head, "Kid, it's time you woke up and got back on the reality train."

"Yeah? Well here's a newsflash Dad, I had fever-induced hallucinations my whole childhood, but I always knew they weren't real afterwards."

"Oh yeah? Well what about that time you hallucinated Mr Farlow getting strangled to death by his own tie?" Gus challenged, "You turned white as a sheet every time you saw him for months after that."

"I was six years old, and you thought he was a ghost too Gus."

"Only because your irrational fear of him was so convincing Shawn."

"You know what? This is ridiculous, a girls been killed, there's a murderer walking around somewhere, probably plotting against his only witness...Me, and we're discussing events that happened over twenty years ago."

"There hasn't been any murder Shawn." Gus insisted.

"Yeah there has."

"No, there hasn't."

"Has too!"

"Has not!"

"Has too!"

"Has not!"

"Has too!"

"Has not!"

"Prove it."

"Ok, I will," Gus headed for the door, "are you coming or what?"

"Oh, you mean right now?" A stress ball connected with his head, "Ow! Why do you have a stress ball?" He pushed himself off the couch and shuffled behind his friend, following him outside, "Ok, I'll bite...Where's your proof?"

"Well, Lets see...No body, check!" Gus started, "No evidence of there ever being a body, or a struggle, check! And..." He shoved a thermometer in to his friends mouth.

Shawn took it out, "What are you..."

Gus' eyes narrowed, "Put it back in your mouth Shawn!"

The fake psychic pouted, "Fine," And put the thermometer back in to his mouth, "his is upid."

Gus ignored his protests, "Ok, read what it says."

"100.5."

"Well that's down exactly 3.1 degrees since the last time I took your temperature," Gus looked suitably smug, "I think we can all agree that this is all the proof I need."

"Wait...You've been taking my temperature? And putting wet cloths on my head..." Shawn did a bad job at hiding a smirk, "Dude...are you like totally broody right now?"

Giving his friend a look that threatened to burn a hole right through him, Gus took out his car keys and got in to his car.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

Ignoring the stifled laughter coming from his friend, Gus got out of the Blueberry and stormed towards their office. Shawn watched through the window in amusement as his friend jammed the rest of the samples haphazardly in to the sample case; then suddenly something caught his eye:

_**A smudge on the glass...**_

_Flash! A females face pressed up harshly against the window..._

"That's it!" Shawn got in to the Blueberry and started up the car.

"Shawn, what are you doing?" His best friend demanded as he exited their office, sample case in hand.

"I'm going to the Police Station Gus, I know how I can prove that someone was murdered here last night." His voice was high (if not a little hoarse) with excitement, as he started to pull out of the driveway.

Gus walked forward desperately, "Shawn, get back here, I need my car...Shawn!" He watched in despair as his friend drove off.

* * *

As Shawn walked in to the Chiefs office, which Lassiter, Juliet and the Chief herself were occupying, he took a look over Lassiter's shoulder at a case file he we holding in his hand.

_**Deaths. Homeless. Organs Missing. Serial Killer.**_

Lassiter felt a presence behind him and turned around, narrowing his eyes and slamming the file shut when he realised who it was, "What the hell is he doing here?"

"I was about to ask that same question." Chief Vick looked up expectantly at Shawn, "Well Mr Spencer?"

"I can prove that somebody was murdered outside the Psych office last night...BOOYAH!" He called out victoriously.

"OK, ignoring that last part...How exactly?" As always, Chief Vick was genuinely curious.

"There was a smudge on the window."

"Wait no! An actual smudge on your window...Get out of here!" Lassiter's patronising tone turned serious as he looked at the Chief, "You're gonna let me get him out of here, right?"

"I can't say I'm not considering it."

Realising he was losing his audience, Shawn decided it was time to play his psychic card, "Wait, I'm getting something," He put his hand to his head, "I'm seeing a face, and it's being pushed up against the glass." He put his hand down, "Chief, if you swab the window for saliva, you'll get her DNA."

Juliet looked at him skeptically, "Shawn...Did you just fake a psychic vision?"

He could hardly believe the irony in that question, "Yes...?"

The Chief had had enough, "Ok Mr Spencer, I think it's high time you went home"

"But Chief I..." With the looks on all their faces, he knew it was no use, "You know what, fine! If no one will help, then I'll just solve this thing on my own!" And with that he stormed out of her office.

"Shawn wait!" Juliet called after him, "Shawn!" She grabbed his arm.

"What?!" He snapped as he turned around, frowning when she let go, "I'm sorry Jules, I..."

"I know," She half smiled, "I just wanted to tell you that I've checked through all the missing persons files over the last 48 hours."

"Wait, you actually did that?" He was unable to keep the surprise from his voice.

She looked oddly offended, "Shawn, I gave you my word."

"I know your words good Jules, it's just...I figured you were just humoring me..."

"Why would I do that?" The female Detective asked in confusion.

Shawn looked over at Chief Vick and Lassiter, "Oh...No reason." He turned his attention back on to Juliet, who was already at her desk. "So, how many missing people do I need to look through?" He asked as he walked over to her.

"None."

"What?"

"Well, no females anyway...I'm sorry Shawn." She passed him the file.

He flicked through it quickly, "What about further back than 48 hours ago?"

"Shawn..."

"Come on Jules, can't we just check?" He sat at the edge of her desk.

She sighed, "Ok." And pulled it up on her computer.

Shawn quickly scanned the photographs on the screen. To his disappointment there was no features on any of the people in the photographs that matched the girl he saw through the window, that he was sure of, even if the lighting had been terrible.

* * *

Despite the fact his trip down to the Police Station had been a big waste of time, and had only succeeded to help in proving everybody else right, Shawn still wasn't deterred from carrying out his solo investigation. He was positive, without a doubt that what he'd seen was real. As he walked over to the Blueberry his own motorcycle caught his eye.

"Buzz!" Shawn smiled as he spotted McNab coming out of the Police Station.

"Oh, hey Shawn how are you feeling?" He asked, then carried on talking before the fake psychic had a chance to answer, "You know,I had a fever induced hallucination once, although I don't actually remember anything about it, apart from being stuck up in a tree afterwards...It took two firemen to help me down." He suddenly looked very thoughtful, "One month on and I still don't know how I got up there."

"Right...Anyway, Can you do me a favour?"

"Sure, what is it?"

He tossed the keys to the Blueberry over to McNab, "Give these to Gus when he gets here."

McNab caught the keys and looked down at them, "OK..."

"Thanks buddy." Shawn smiled as he put his helmet on and got on to his bike.

* * *

Shawn had been driving around practically in circles for close to half an hour, trying to get his head straight; searching his memory for any sort of clue that would help in his investigation.

_Flash._

_A females face pressed up harshly against the window._

He tried to concentrate as much as possible, he needed to find something...Anything that might help.

_Flash._

_A knife._

What sort of knife was it? Where there any definitive features? He attempted to answer those question, but it was to no avail. He definitely wasn't at the top of his game.

_Flash._

_Merciless eyes._

Shawn was rudely brought back to real-time as a silver truck connected with the back of his bike, sending him flying in to the air.

Landing with a thud, his head slamming in to the ground, Shawn groaned and watched as the offending vehicle drove on; blinking desperately as he attempted to read the licence plate:

_**5 N... **_Shawn blinked desperately now, his vision really starting to blur...**0...**He was so tired, but he fought hard to keep his eyes opened...**_7..._**Black...


End file.
